For the Silence of the World
by blissfully ignorant
Summary: Years after the schism, the noble organization has healed itself, recruiting and training new members. A plan is uncovered that could have disasterous results for the trained memebers, but is it too late? dun dun DUN!
1. contact

~a/n: I know that in most of my other fics I've ignored the issue of VFD altogether, and for the longest time I've been itching to sit down and do a fic that deals with nothing but the aforementioned organization.  
  
F o r t h e S i l e n c e o f t h e W o r l d  
  
C h a p t e r O n e : C o n t a c t  
  
Isadora Quagmire looked nothing like her old self. Her short dark hair was covered with a blonde wig, which had in turn been died green with blue streaks so as to blend in with her surroundings.  
  
She had been standing in the bathroom, wearing nothing more than the short, black top and blue skirt of the waitresses at this particular hangout, for an hour.  
  
She glanced in the mirror and, sure enough, a familiar face met her eyes. She turned.  
  
And it was a good thing she recognized the face too, because otherwise Isadora would have had no idea who this woman was. By staring at her face she knew it was R, her contact, but otherwise she too looked like one of the waitresses.  
  
"Is there something I can help you with?" she asked, raising her eyebrows like she always did when delivering a code.  
  
"The world is quiet here," Isadora responded, approaching her and holding out her hand.  
  
"I don't see why I always have to meet you in a bathroom," R huffed, handing her the small envelope.  
  
"Because it's illegal to have surveillance cameras in a bathroom." Isadora slipped the disk into the side of her skirt, holding it there with her hipbone.  
  
"Take care," R said as she walked into the tiny, graffiti-covered stall to change into Isadora's street clothes and get out of there. Isadora herself strolled out into the bar, leaving the bright silence of the bathroom for the dark club. She could feel the music from the speakers vibrating in the floor and up through the ridiculously uncomfortable shoes she was wearing.  
  
She saw Klaus almost immediately, as despite his disguise he still looked extremely uncomfortable in that room. She slid into the seat next to him and tucked the envelope in the pocket of his black trench coat. "Can I take your order?" she asked, giving him a meaningful look.  
  
"No thank you," he said with a mild wave. "I've seen all I need to see here." He stood and reached into his pocket. "See you around."  
  
He turned and left, and as he receded she stared after him. "Damn is he attractive," she whispered to herself before returning to work. 


	2. get me out of here

~a/n: do you remember how in the last book Sunny was messing around with the cinnamon because she thought it would be good in the hot chocolate? And it worked? I took that as a hint that she would be good at cooking as she got older, and this chapter kinda relies on that fact. (PS--the story title is based on the last sentence of the student council pledge from SKU--"For the revolution of the world!" that reference is there just for you, Laera.)  
  
C h a p t e r T w o : G e t m e O u t o f H e r e  
  
"You look awful," Sunny said, shaking her head down at her brother's limp form.  
  
"Thank you for telling me that," Klaus said, opening one eye and glancing up at her from the couch. "it's good to know I look about as good as I feel."  
  
She felt his forehead. "You seem to have a fever, and you were on your feet all night in that stupid club, weren't you? How long are they going to use that place for a contact spot?"  
  
"Until it's printed in the Daily Punctilio." He sat up heavily, rubbing his head. "You know that time you told me you couldn't wait until your training was done and you could actually begin your volunteer work? Don't wish that anymore. Soon enough you too will find yourself dressed like an idiot in severe pain, dreaming of sweet, blissful, quiet death." He crossed the room and started towards the bathroom. "I'm going to take a long, hot shower. If I don't return, make sure my obituary is accurate."  
  
"I'll make you some chicken soup for when you get out."  
  
He made a small, agonized noise, which she was sure was a thank you. His boots clunked heavily across the floor, his trench coat swishing behind him. For the moment his hair was jet black, to blend him in. Of course his disguise was good, but underneath it all Sunny knew he probably felt lost in that tiny, smoky, stinky place.  
  
She walked over to the coffee table in the living room where Klaus had thrown the little packet he had received that night. "Please transfer to V. for decoding," it said, and she recognized the handwriting as Duncan's.  
  
Sunny leaned out the window, trying a call she had just learned--it was a little like a whistle and a little like the coo of a pigeon, and sure enough Daniel came swooping towards her. She stared the pigeon in the eye as she tied the envelope around its leg. "Take this to Violet as soon as possible."  
  
The pigeon nodded and flew off, and Sunny went back to the soup, pleased that she had done it correctly. Violet was the only fully trained Volunteer who could really work a computer, so she was most certainly the only one who could decode whatever sort of disk it was in that little packet. 


	3. evidence?

~a/n: I'm actually not sure if it is possible to decode a disk, as I don't know if one can even be encoded to begin with, but I felt it was a nice little tie in.  
  
C h a p t e r T h r e e : E v i d e n c e ?  
  
Violet sat before the little pulley system with a small can of oil. She added a carefully measured drop to the wheel and tried again. It turned grugingly, and she squeezed the dropper again. This time it turned smoothly, and she sat back in her chair, feeling quite pleased with herself.  
  
A pigeon fluttered in the open window and pecked her arm.  
  
"What is it, Daniel?"  
  
He cooed and stuck out his leg.  
  
"Ooo," she said with a smile. "Decoding. I haven't gotten to do that in a while. Thank you." She tore open the little packet.  
  
He cooed again, pointing with his leg to her dinner plate from that evening, which still held a piece of bread.  
  
"Help yourself," she smiled, turning to her computer. Now the computer at Prufrock Prep was rather advanced, but if one placed it in a room next to Violet's it would appear to be little more than an abacus. Violet was sitting before the most advanced computer on the market, with a few programming additions she had designed herself. She entered the disk and started her decoding program, reading the note that Duncan had stuck inside the envelope while the computer began analyzing the code.  
  
Dear V, the letter began,  
  
As you know, for some time now, we have been investigating C to find out if she is loyal. We have learned from the Schism of past generations and are taking no chances with her. This afternoon I found myself having tea with her, and poked about a bit while she was in the kitchen. While I found not one sugarbowl, I did happen across the disk you hold in your very hands. I've never been very good with computers, and when mine said the files were encoded I thought of you instantaneously. Please get back to me as soon as you are able.  
  
With all due respect, Duncan  
  
"The world is quiet here."  
  
She folded the note and placed it back in the envelope, then looked at the screen and snorted. "Well, I guess whatever this is C didn't care enough to encode it very well."  
  
Daniel looked up from the plate and cooed questioningly.  
  
"This isn't a very hard code to crack. Simple variation of the old Diablo code. Shouldn't take me more than five minutes."  
  
Now I'm not very good with any advanced computer work, so I'm not entirely sure what Violet was doing, but it involved a lot of typing. A pleased smile slid across her face as she absorbed herself in the work.  
  
"Not bad, C, not bad, but you forget who invented the Diablo encoding program to begin with. Trust me; I can take you out, sister."  
  
For half an our she worked on the code, symbols forming letters, letters leading to words, and words slowly turning into sentences and paragraphs. After she finished and read what was written there, she almost wished she hadn't. 


	4. things just got worse

~a/n: knowing the way the books are going so far, I'm going to assume that the survivor mentioned in the Snicket file in The Hostile Hospital is not a Baudelaire. However, my theory is that the survivor is Quigley Quagmire, and the photograph they found was simply left behind by mistake, or was meant to go with another document. That's why I stuck Quigley in this story, so please don't hurt me.  
  
C h a p t e r F o u r : T h i n g s J u s t G o t W o r s e  
  
"Quagmire Publishing, how may I help you?"  
  
"Quigley? Are you and Duncan still running your business out of the basement?"  
  
The voice on the other end of the phone lost its professional tone. "Yeah. Who were you looking for, Violet? Duncan just left and Isadora's due home any minute."  
  
Violet paused and took a deep breath. "Could you tell Duncan to call me? Things with C just got worse."  
  
"I figured as much. Could you tell everyone not to contact me for a while? Technically I'm dead again, and I don't think it'll help if you keep contacting someone whose obituary appears tomarrow."  
  
"How did you die this time?"  
  
"An unfortunate accident involving a canoe and several carnivorous plants. I'm going undercover to investigate this business with C."  
  
"Good luck. I'm sending the contents of the disk as well as the disk itself with Daniel as we speak."  
  
"Thanks. Bye then."  
  
"Daniel, look at me." The pigeon met Violet's eyes. "I want you to take this note to the Quagmires."  
  
Daniel cooed and fluttered out the open window and Violet shook her head. "This just got much worse." 


End file.
